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“Very ... bright.”
Galliston’s mouth twitched.
“That’s all you can say about my home?”
“I know pink is a masculine colour, and it’s shown with status, but I’ve never encountered such a pink room.”
“This was how my father designed it. He was very adamant about not having anything change in here.” Galliston shrugged. “And I’m not into decor. I’m happy to leave it as it is.”
There was a hint of sadness in his voice. Marjorie found herself wanting to know more. She settled onto the couch and smoothed out her skirts.
“How long has it been since your father died?”
“Just before Christmas. He caught a fever, and then he was gone. It was very sudden.”
“My apologies, Your Grace.”
“You weren’t to know. Although I’m sure Society would have the story circulating.” Galliston rubbed a hand over his eyes as he paced to the empty fireplace. “I will be honest; his death sent me into a panic. I was one of those gentlemen you would call a rake. Having the time of my life. I didn’t think I would be a duke until I was well into my forties, considering how strong and healthy Father was, so I thought I had plenty of time to have some enjoyment. Then he was gone, and I was left floundering.”
The way he spoke touched something inside Marjorie. How he described it sounded like how she felt when her husband died. It had come so suddenly, and she had been scared about how she would cope without him. She licked her lips.
“Do you think he would be proud of you now? You’re not a rake anymore; I take it?”
“I’m a lot more reserved. I’ve grown up, so to speak.” Galliston bowed his head, his back still to her. “But I never did that while he was alive. And he often chastised me about what he called a light lifestyle. I never got the chance for him to see me like this, and I regret it.”
“You’re worried about failing his memory.”
“You could say that.” Galliston turned to face her. “He wanted me to settle down, secure an heir for the dukedom, and then I could think about having some enjoyment in my life. But the thought of marrying simply for an heir didn’t sit well with me. I couldn’t bring myself to see women like that. I ... I didn’t want to be a father. And having an heir is very important if I want to keep the dukedom in my line.”
“You didn’t want things thrust upon you.”
“Essentially.” Galliston ran his hands through his hair. “My mother died when I was young. I was barely four years old. And I saw my father fall to pieces. He loved her to death, and he was almost like a ghost for a while afterwards. I didn’t want that for myself. The thought of marrying someone I loved and then have them taken away so cruelly made me want to remain a bachelor for the rest of my life.”
Marjorie could understand that. And she saw the pain in his eyes. The thought of going through the motions to get an heir was important, but it still scared him. She got to her feet and approached him.
“There’s a chance that you’ll have plenty of years married, and they will be happy ones. You can’t think all relationships are going to be the same as your parents’. It’s not fair on you to believe that.”
“And you think I can have many years married to your daughter?”
Marjorie hesitated.
“If not with Isabel, then with someone.”
Galliston frowned.
“Are you saying that I won’t marry Isabel?”
“I’m just saying that my daughter is processing the grief from her father’s death in a way that is not showing who she really is. She’s letting grief and fear drive her. Perhaps that’s the same as what you’re doing.”
Galliston was silent for a moment, staring at her like he had never seen her before. Marjorie wished he wouldn’t do that; it was making her nervous.
“If I didn’t know better, Lady Dunley, I’d say you were trying to persuade me not to marry your daughter,” Galliston said quietly. His eyes narrowed. “What are you up to?”
“I’m not up to anything.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Marjorie knew she was backed into a corner. She had wanted to find out more about the duke, only to dig herself into a hole. She had to choose her words carefully to get herself out again.
